


Start of Something New

by iArgent



Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst, Chimera Dimitri, Dragon Flayn - Freeform, Dragon Rhea, Dragon seteth - Freeform, Everybody sort of broke from their own factions when Sylvain and Felix got together, Fae Yuri, Fluff, Good Edelgard (Fire Emblem), Good Rhea (Fire Emblem), Hunter Ashe, Hunter Benadetta, Hunter Caspar, Hunter Claude, Hunter Edelgard, Hunter Ingrid, Hunter Linhardt, Hunter Sylvain, Hunters vs Night Creatures, I have roles for everyone else but tbh they werent mentioned, M/M, Multi, Night creatures are complete idiots when it comes to human customs, References to Fire, References to attempted murder, Sylvain has multiple horrific anxiety attacks, Sylvix Week 2020, Vampire Hilda, Weddings, Whatever just enjoy it, no beta we die like Glenn, references to disowning, vampire felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iArgent/pseuds/iArgent
Summary: Sylvain falling in love with a vampire would have been hard enough if he hadn't been raised to kill them. Sylvain deciding to leave home for the opposing side would have been hard enough if his friends and allies hadn't learned. The peace talks would have been easier if it hadn't resulted in a civil war.A group of Hunters and a group of Night creatures gather in an old theatre to celebrate a good thing, even if Sylvain's head doesn't want to let him enjoy it, to put a stamp on a new alliance and the start of something new.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/Claude von Riegan, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932448
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yall. Decided to do two (maybe three) prompts for today! Marriage/Urban Fantasy(/After the War)
> 
> WARNINGS:
> 
> Sylvain has several apocalyptic anxiety attacks and almost ruins his own wedding, but happy ending, so it's fine. References to the rest of the Hunter faction trying to burn out our little one, disowning, and some explicit language and mentions of murder and violence.

His breath rattled like he’d been in the cold six hours after a sudden dip in a lake. Cold, sure hands batted his warm, frozen fingers out of the way, tying the knot solidly around his throat. Sylvain choked, cool fingers brushed his Adams apple as they rapidly slipped between the silk and skin, verifying he could breathe. Rose shaded eyes narrow and rose hair in a delicate bun gleams and the vampire glares.

Sylvain isn’t used to that being a non-issue.

He was too used to these creatures now. Used to their cold or hot hands and their strange eyes and their strange strength and their noises. Used to flinching when a loud car drove by like it felt like glass shards in _his_ ears.

He sees the moment Hilda decides she isn’t going to snap his neck over her knot in his tie and his regretful anxiety.

“You’re acting like you don’t want this.” She says, and it’s a pout. Of course, she’s known the other groom since childhood, competed in all ways that mattered. Competed for prey, for love, for power. Their childhoods so long before Sylvain’s. “C’mon, Hunter, look alive!” Her pearly little fangs appear and what should be revulsion but is instead charm, like it was cute, crawls up Sylvain’s throat and he smiles instead of grimacing.

“I’ll never get used to that.” Ingrid says, a gray dress exposing a wicked scar on one of her shoulders. A strange statement to make about the grooms side of the family.

Hilda visibly decides on Ingrid’s life too. Grabbing brushes and not knives to wield and applying perfect coats of color to Ingrid’s eyes, smiling smugly when Ingrid blushes at her own reflection.

Hilda leaves.

Ingrid exhales like she hasn’t taken a breath in hours. “Ready for this?”

Sylvain cannot smile. He’s feeling some sort of way. He’s feeling some sort of way and he needs to shake it because He will see. And He will get the wrong idea. And if there’s anything that would make Sylvain’s life not worth living once more it would be burnished amber eyes unsure and wincing at the closest thing to an altar they had. Fair skin flushing in shame at the thought this wasn’t the single most important thing Sylvain has ever done.

Bile rises, the thought itself is disgusting. He is disgusted with himself, disgusted with the possibility, why can’t he be happy right now?

“Sylvain?” Ingrid’s voice sounds small. “Sylvain nobody is here, they can’t hear us, are you okay?”

They _can._ They can always hear. Is this what Sylvain wants? A few years of no privacy before becoming what he’s hunted. The mate to a creature that isn’t even alive- Sylvain bites back a sob. But his eyes burn. He has never thought that of Him. He doesn’t think that at all. He feels filthy in fresh silk for letting the thought cross his mind. He is a disgrace. Disgrace to the creatures who trust him, disgrace to the Hunters who followed him. Hilda’s perfectly tied tie will wrinkle but he cannot stop himself from falling forward, head between his knees, hands in his hair, and draws a breath like he’s just broken water after two minutes, lungs screaming. The room feels fuzzy.

Ingrid’s hands are small, and strong, calloused with murder like his. Soft, because she and Sylvain share lotion. “Sylvain? Sylvain?”

Her voice is like a radio station his mother listened to when Sylvain was a child. Too quiet and fuzzy along the edges, Sylvain had hated it, too hard to hear, his mothers sharp glare when he asked if they could turn it up. His fathers words thundering through his head on a rainy night and disgrace disgrace disgrace not drop of warm blood but he could be describing himself not Sylvains-

Sylvains friends.

Sylvains friends.

Sylvains friends.

Hilda, cold and rose and dancing and her claws as magnificent and deadly as a sword and her fashion.

Ingrid, solid, dependable, scarred and battered and beautiful, and straightforward.

Dimitri, Warm and cold and feral and tame, tiny little smiles and a firm chest and excellent hugs, and the faint smell of iron but an old old old eye like the most terrifying parts of the ocean all lonely and sad until literal sunshine Claude had followed Sylvain and they almost died on claws and arrows and instead died in a new way on lips and trust.

Yuri, ethereal and blood scented and beautiful.

Claude warm and sure and lively and cold in the eyes but soft in his heart and hands quick over strings and triggers.

Ashe with his silver lock-picks, shy smile, preference for hot chocolate at 3am instead of beer, hands never red.

Names came rapid fire, Marianne, Balthus, Hapi, Constance, Dedue, Hubert, Edelgard, Leonie, Lysithea, Mercedes, Annette, Dorothea, Ignatz, Flayn, Seteth, Rhea, Jeralt, Byleth, Ferdinand, Caspar, Petra, Shamir, Alois, Catherine, Cyril, Lorenz, Linhardt, Bernadetta, Raphael, Manuela, Hanneman.

Him.

Felix.

Allowing himself to think the name made something shake free and a halfway manic smile rips at his lips. He’s lost and gained everything all at once and he feels like he’s been running for hours without eating, weak and dizzy and warm around his collar and hairline like his own skin isn’t the right fit.

Lukewarm hands and perfect nails curl around one of his hands, Ingrid’s concerned face hazy but still present and Yuri’s endless smile, the one that means worry and not happy or angry or cold and murderous or sad. Yuri never stops smiling and they all mean something and this one is actual concern. His eyes are doing the thing where they shift in shade and glitter around the edges like he’s filtering something from the air, his hair seems wrong, so he’s emotionally fraught too, probably.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“You’re not, friend.” Yuri’s voice is lyrical as ever, the line of scales down the left side of his throat flexes like a snake when his tense jaw moves. “You’re distressed, it tastes…acrid.”

Ingrid is side eyeing the absolute shit out of a friend of Sylvain’s she evidently hasn’t approached.

Sylvain can’t blame her. He can’t even work out what Yuri is beyond some sort of Fae that can lie and wow is Sylvain lucky nobody had given him a location and an iron knife because he wouldn’t have lived to be having a full breakdown minutes before his wedding being told he was making the rooms flavor acrid.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s still tasty.”

“I’m also sorry you said that.”

Yuri’s smile doesn’t change even a little but Sylvain now knows it’s the ‘I’m amused by your mortal antics but also very done with this so move on’ smile which is only slightly different from his ‘I’d kill you but you’re cute’ smile that he has for Dimitri and now Claude maybe and his teeth are unnaturally pointed so Sylvain isn’t going to say _shit._

“Sylvain. Are you okay?” Ingrid sounds worried. And as she’s kneeling next to some sort of ancient Fae monstrosity and not even guarding her neck a little she definitely means it.

“I’m okay I just…got a little dark for a bit. Which I think is fair as I’m marrying like. A shadow prince.”

“He’s more of a Duke-”

“Yuri-” Okay mouthing off to whatever the fuck Yuri was and not insadeathing would have been bewildering this time three years ago “-please don’t bend my brain with more of the…”

“Undying politics?”

“-Undying politics.”

“Don’t let him run away, it’ll be an absolute crush to decide who gets to run him down.”

“There’s..Hunters…ex-Hunters? In here?” Ingrid tried to defend.

“Yes and I’m sure their sacrifice would be a comfort.”

Sylvain jolted upwards to look at Yuri’s face only to see his ‘I’m fucking with you’ smile in place. “Oh please, you’d never hurt Claude.”

“You’ll find I would if he started shooting into a crowd of my family to cover your escape.”

“See I can’t tell how much of this is joking Yuri-Bird.”

“Sylvain. Focus. You need to be at the…Altar in like ten minutes.” Ingrid stated, looking exhausted from the whiplash in Sylvains moods and conversations and Yuri’s…existence.

“Yes. You look stunning. And Felix’s eyes aren’t as powerful as mine.” Yuri added, “He will be suitably impressed.”

Ingrid’s eyes fluttered momentarily. “He’s right Sylvain, you look amazing. He is going to be blown away. And if he’s not after all this-” she didn’t have to specify what all of it was. The disowning the break from any tradition he’d ever followed the sudden need to run off with half a faction and join their ancestral enemies, the wedding that was both a love match and a seal of an alliance “-I will break his perfect immortal nose.”

Hopefully Yuri wasn’t upset by his literal combat partner being threatened.

“I’ll hold his arms.” Yuri said, his ‘serious’ smile in place “He is very strong and fast, it will give you an edge. Watch for his feet. He’s a kicker.”

“Good to know.”

“Please stop planning on how to break my fiances nose.”

The ceremony took place in an abandoned theatre.

Yes, spooky, a little weird, thematically appropriate.

Rhea looked lovely though. Like she had in his families bestiary. Hair down, dragon headdress, flowers in her hair.

Felix was, incandescent. Marble skin and burning eyes and his soft lips were just faintly curved into the beginnings of a smile. His eyes widened when he saw Sylvain, he reached out a moment too soon for Sylvain’s hands, smile finally blooming at sweaty palms. Sylvain huffed a laugh, relief at the cool fingers soothing the frenetic energy humming below his skin.

There was a sudden uptick in childish whistles from the audience. Raucous from the little collection of Hunters, Bernadetta not involved and sinking down. Caspar with his fingers in his mouth. Edelgard golf clapping because of course she was. Hubert pretending to be human because honestly he wasn’t very different from the night creatures a few seats away. Leonie let out a loud ‘whoop!’ and Claude, the only one sitting directly next to their new inhuman friends (Dimitri, of course) whistled himself, which seemed to be the cue for the creatures to get involved too. Dimitri, painfully awkward, clapped thunderously and Hilda bounced up to whistle herself. Seteth buried his head in his hands and Flayn shouted something congratulatory in something that was probably old Draconic, which woke Linhardt from his nap and the green haired Hunter looked beside himself in glee for a moment.

Felix’s flush was slow to come, his heartbeat slow and his blush a bit dark, Sylvain would have to tap a vein for their wedding night…if his friends/family/cabal thing hadn’t planned something already.

Sylvain blushed fast enough for them both, going from pink to red the moment Felix murmured “You smell good.”

Rhea smiled, serene aura in effect but something decidedly impish in her eyes.

All in all, Sylvain was used to long, ritualistic weddings. Vows respecting family and lineage. His wedding was nothing like that.

Felix was genuine and jittery through the whole thing. Nothing like the waxy perfection and dead eyes of a Hunter wedding. He dropped the ring, and instead of stony silence or mockery, Yuri from two feet away had scooped the ring out of the air, forced it back into his hand and muttered a soft “Felix he won’t run away if you move to slowly.”

Sylvain felt his vows woefully inadequate. Formal, and stilted, when compared to the perfect mess of stammering awkward honest promises spilling from a vampires lips. He drew a breath, and another, and his heart thundered so loudly the inhuman parts of their viewing audience started to murmur.

“Sylvain?” Felix breathed, he couldn’t hide anything from Yuri, Ingrid, or Rhea, but he could try and beat his comrades hearing “Are you okay?”

“I don’t. Weddings I’m used to are different.”

Rhea’s face didn’t crumple, but the flowers on her headdress wilted slightly, and Sylvain felt unimaginably sad. In general the whole of the Night audience seemed to fall in mood at that. Sylvain grabbed Felix’s wrist with both hands when it seemed like he’s pull away. Expression somewhat wary. “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Did we…forget something? There is an altar, and…an officiate?” Rhea breathed “Vows, and witnesses, and no blood magic. We have, forgotten a ritual? We do not invoke gods but is there something that would make you more comfortable?” Her tone was even and volume as low as possible.

Sylvain wanted to cry.

“Is it…Me?” Felix gritted out. “It’s so soon, and this was the wrong seal?”

“No!”

Okay, that was a bit loud. Half the Hunters were on their feet looking wary, Claude had bent his head toward Dimitri and was talking, fast. Dimitri, who Sylvain had ascertained was a Big Deal like Rhea was a Big Deal, like Edelgard was a Big Deal, like Claude was a Big Deal, hell, like Yuri was a Big Deal, looked wounded but not angry. Watching a group of inhuman creatures come to a human ceremony for this little peace, was a lot.

“No.” Sylvain said softer, heart stammering at Felix’s wide eyes. “You’re perfect.” He used his free hand to smooth Felix’s hair back, brushing warm knuckles over a frigid cheekbone Sylvain wanted to press to his chest until they reached that wonderful moment when Felix had stolen enough body heat to soften into near mortal, flushed pink and human and sleepy. “I was. Worried, not about you.” he rushed to reassure “I, the weddings I’ve been to weren’t like this. And we didn’t have a rehearsal so I didn’t know what to expect. My vows are. Boring.”

Felix blinked “Then just be honest.”

Everyone heard that too, and despite the confusion it didn’t seem violent but it did seem to be a trainwreck.

“You don’t want me to be honest, Felix.” Sylvain assured, sure, Felix had pledged love but Sylvain had never seen more than one person share an Emotion at a wedding.

“Why?”

“It’s not done.” Ingrid hissed, trying to help.

Yuri, Rhea, and Felix, poor Felix, all looked bewildered and uncomfortable. Yuri’s smile almost dropped which Sylvain assumed would instantly end the world.

“It’s. Marriage is political, I mean, this is political.”

Yuri was going to actually pull a knife on him. His hand was on the hilt.

Felix stepped back, wrenching his hand fully away.

Rhea’s eyes took on a very reptilian quality that Sylvain both didn’t know what to do with and also felt was bad for his health.

“Oh. We uh. Misunderstood.” Felix said, uncharacteristically diplomatic even as the hot amber of his eyes seemed to have the light stolen.

“No that’s. That’s not what I mean it’s-”

“Will somebody please explain what’s going on?” Caspar shouted down. He was, predictably, standing, Edelgard had one hand outstretched as if she had tried to catch him before he popped up.

“Is this a marriage or a business contract?” Ingrid called back, almost casually.

Everybody turned to Dimitri who flushed brightly immediately. “Uh.” Echoed through the stands “I was under the impression the marriage was a symbol. Showing both sides the other was as capable of love and dignity as the other? You two are the catalyst that led to this…Alliance. It seemed right to celebrate you two.”

“Yes but marriage is. Political?”

Dimitri looked bewildered and a little like he was going to stand up and walk the fifteen feet to the stage to continue the conversation.

“Should have fucked him under a tree I swear to both Courts-” Yuri snarled under his breath.

Ingrid, sounding pained, put a hand on Sylvain’s shoulder. “Sylvain. Have you seriously gone through this thinking it was a business transaction for this alliance?”

Felix looked like he wasn’t even sure where he was, one of Rhea’s flowers returned to full bloom.

“Maybe?”

“Then why did you agree?” If his voice wasn’t so even, Sylvain expected his boyfriend…lover…fiance? Felix’s voice would be wretched.

“Because I love you and want to be married to you.”

Felix dropped his head into his hands.

Edelgard stood and called out, clear and proud as her clan would have preferred on a battlefield rather than a confusing culture shock of a wedding. “Everybody is going to leave this room, and come back in, and we shall do this again.”

And nobody could argue because what other plan was there for this?

He pulled Felix aside before they could leave. “I’m. I’m so sorry I was, it all happened so fast. And there was no rehearsal so I um. Look I did think we had to do this, but I didn’t say anything because I wanted to! I want to be with you. The wedding is. The bad part?”

“You…rehearse bonding?”

“Uh, yeah, make sure everybody knows where to sit and how vows and the ceremony go a…..you don’t.”

Felix blinked “Sylvain we don’t do…this. We all have different bonding traditions but this type of wedding is…unique. To humans.”

“Fae, uh, really do just fuck under trees?”

“Some. And like, certain plants. You’re not a vampyre so the whole, blood thing carries some more risk for you and dragons do this burning thing-”

“You guys what, read a wedding magazine and put this together on the fly three days after we all had to flee our houses?”

“...Yes. Yes we did that.”

“Fe, baby. You’re…six hundred entire years old, and you’ve never seen what, a movie?”

“I’ve seen movies. We did this like a movie.”

Sylvain bit his lip “You all. Planned this. Off magazines and Rom-coms, to make it genuinely special and adorable and I…came out and did-” he gestured broadly “that.” 

“We did it wrong, I assume?”

“My family was. Stodgy even by Hunter terms. All those happy events weren’t weddings to me, I expected it to be yknow.”

“A hostage negotiation?”

“Y’know. Yes, but you didn’t have to say it.”

Felix tilted his head. “So to be clear, you want to marry me. You like this, and your bizarre behavior is a result of expecting this to be frightening and clerical.”

“Well now I just sound stupid.”

“Can I kiss you before the wedding or is that breaking a rule?”

“Felix is this why I haven’t fucking seen you in twenty four hours?”  
  
”Claude said-”

“Nope. Nope that’s a superstition-”

“Superstitions are important!”

“You mean traditions?”

“No.”

The laughed together for a moment. Sylvain snagged both of Felix’s hands and pressed his fingers between Felix’s smaller ones, warming the joints and watching Felix shudder happily. He kissed him softly. “I had like, a whole prejudice laced breakdown imagining this and instead it was a romantic comedy.”

“Hmmm, maybe drama. It was very dramatic for a moment.”

“I’m so sorry I cannot even say how sorry I am if you thought for a minute that I-”

“Stop apologizing you oaf you can make it up to me later after the…the…welcome?”

“Felix you fucking know the word receptio-you planned a reception?”

Felix shook his head violently “I forgot! There’s a lot. And Dorothea did.”

Sylvain smiled. “You guys are the best.”

Squeezing their hands tighter Felix looked up. “Sylvain, we haven’t talked about it.”

“How…I betrayed my family and my friends found out and my dad tried to set us all on fire instead of attending peace talks? No, and let’s not, yet.”

“We’re coming back in!” Edelgard called through the door.

“Ready this time?” Felix asked.

“Oh hell yes.”

This time, it went smoothly.

The reception was outside, which made all the Hunters nervous. After all the rest of their order could be anywhere but with the big names here they were both a target and something to be avoided at all costs.

The Night creatures had evidently completely missed how receptions worked as well and it resulted in some sort of impromptu holiday in which every hunter got a gift. Sylvain received two toasters because nobody barring Felix, Yuri and Dimitri seemed to understand exactly how much or what humans truly ate. Let alone that Sylvain didn’t have a home, nor was he sure if Felix’s had electricity, he’d never seen it lit with anything but fire which he assumed was for eye sensitivity.

The tinny strains of a love song filtered through a cracking boombox that Sylvain was honestly startled still worked. His husband (HUSBAND!) scoffed at the poor quality. Usually one of the Hunters would whip out a phone to replace the awful sound but between the fire and the fleeing all of those were destroyed.

For hiding so effortlessly among humans, Sylvain really didn’t know how they’d resisted any possible advancements to their own society barring Hilda’s bizarre love of cheetos that she couldn’t even digest.

“Why do we dance at this? What does it mean?” Felix murmured into Sylvain’s shoulder where he allowed himself to be held. Subtly nuzzling his cold nose into the suit heated by Sylvain’s body. He’d said once you never noticed the cold until you were next to something truly warm.

“I don’t know what the meaning is.” Sylvain responded, turning them in a slow circle. “This is different than what I’m used to. Better.”

“So we can decide what it means?”

Sylvain smiled, heart so full it hurt. “Yeah, we can.”

“The song says ‘lovers dance when they’re feeling in love’ is that what humans do?”

“I’m, first of all, jealous you can hear that because to me it’s just static. But sure, if you’re willing to dance with me every day.”

Felix seemed to be considering, then lowly “Maybe not in front of everyone.”

“Then it’s a tradition.” Sylvain promised, quietly, fervently “I’ll dance with you every day if I can.”

“We have started our own tradition.” Felix said, clipped and smug “We have our own traditions and rituals now. We are our own people.”

Sylvain buried his face in soft, cool, black hair. “We do. New family new rules.”

A marble white hand tightened over Sylvain’s chest, bunching the fabric, popping a stitch. “Are you happy? Are you all happy?”

“I’m happy.” Sylvain promised. “You make me so happy. And everybody else is settling in.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

Sylvain smiled so wide his cheeks hurt. “I love you too.”


End file.
